


Caboose the SPARTAN

by supercasey



Series: Caboose the SPARTAN [1]
Category: Halo, Red vs. Blue
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Caboose the SPARTAN, Caboose the SPARTAN AU, Capture, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Consenual Kidnapping, Guerrilla Warfare, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, M/M, Orphanage, Orphans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, SPARTAN-II Program, Spartans, Trauma, UNSC, War, War Era, warfare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:04:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercasey/pseuds/supercasey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caboose the SPARTAN AU, from part to part, leading to the lovable Blue Team rookie we all know and love. But where did it all begin? This is his story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: Baby Boomer

**Author's Note:**

> You all thought I was kidding about the “Caboose the SPARTAN AU”? Come cry with me.
> 
> You can find the actual post about this AU on my Tumblr here: http://supercasey.tumblr.com/post/116517641964/caboose-is-a-spartan-au

Part 1: Baby Boomer

Part Description: AKA, the real reason Caboose doesn’t like babies. Also, AI should be very careful about how they word things.

...

“Just leave it, Michael.” It’s Judy-41 who says something, who notices Michael’s eyes on the small, wiggling creature under a dead woman. “The ODSTs will find it later. Come on, the Dinos went this way!” She uses her Battle Rifle to point down a long, mostly destroyed highway, stomped on and broken by a Type-47 Ultra Heavy Assault Platform.

“But it’s hurt!” Michael informs his ‘sister’, concerned for the squirming little gremlin as he drops his Assault Rifle on the concrete street, scooping up the creature to hold delicately against his chest, his scar-ridden face smiling as he watches the infant grasp his chest-piece, already attached to the young SPARTAN.

It’s raining, but isn’t it always raining on planets effected by the war? Michael-57 is seventeen years old, and the tallest boy in his unit. He is also the only boy in his unit. Eighteen female SPARTANS are with him, tall and strong and wanting some serious action while their adrenaline is up and the wind still carries ash. They’ve got a long walk, Commander Minnie-51 has reminded them a few times of this fact, trying to get them all moving, but it seems their youngest has found himself in quite the predicament.

The baby is male, and smiles with all the innocence in the world, as if his mother not hours ago sacrificed herself to die at the hands of an Energy Sword, just at the chance that he might make it. Well, he made it, but it seems no one else has, except of course the SPARTANS. Michael-57 grins as he holds the wiggling baby, cooing quietly at it. It’s moments like these that remind the SPARTANS of what they’re fighting for, but that doesn’t make them feel any better about seeing dead civilians and orphaned babies.

“Just put him down, Mike.” Gina suggests, off to the side, wiping off her Gravity Hammer almost lovingly. “That thing ain’t gonna do any better dead. Can’t take him with us. Just leave ‘em be.”

“But he’s all alone!” Michael points out, always insisting on these kinda things. Last time, it was a cat. The girls let him keep that one, but a baby is a MUCH bigger deal than a fiery orange tabby cat named Leonardo. “I can’t leave him here to die! What if the Covvies find him first?”

“They’ve moved on, Michael.” Minnie reminds her younger ‘brother’, coming to join him to see what all the fuss is about. “What are you even going on ab- OH NO! No! Fuck that noise! Michael, we talked about this. No more pets! It’s hard enough hiding Leonardo from the boss, we sure as Hell don’t need a baby to worry about!”

“But he’s gonna die! Please, Minnie! I don’t want him to die just ‘cus I didn’t take him to safety!” Michael’s shooting Minnie those puppy-dog eyes, and goddammit, whose bright idea in Heaven was it to give a SPARTAN like Michael such terrifyingly powerful puppy-dog eyes?

Minnie sighs, followed by all the other girls joining in. That sigh only means one thing to them: Michael gets his way. Again. Damn him and his puppy-dog eyes. Damn them both to Hell. “Fine.” Minnie agrees, and the girls sigh again, since it’s now official that he’s won. “You can bring it with you. But the first chance we get at dumping it at a hospital or with some civilians, you fucking leave it! I ain’t letting you pull the same shit you did with Leonardo!”

Michael-57 grins at that, content with the results of his begging, leaving his ‘sisters’ to only sigh, shaking their heads at their youngest’s infatuation with innocence and happiness. One of these days, a day they fear will come all too soon, all of that is going to turn around and bite him in the ass. But for now, while using a small backpack to wrap around his shoulder and hold the baby in, it’s okay that he’s like this. It’s okay, because they’ll always be here to save him if shit gets bad, and he’ll do the same for them.

...

They cover ground more easily than was first estimated, but that might be because Michael-57 is too preoccupied with the baby to be distracted by anything else and ultimately drag his team behind. The girls are grateful for this, but that gratefulness is long forgotten as they enter yet another burned and broken part of the city, this one with far more plasma burn marks and shrapnel from grenades. The civilians put up a fight, Minnie promises, ignoring the way her teammates seem to linger in the area, looking over the corpses with despair on their faces underneath their helmets.

This is going to be a rough one, they know. This planet is just an innocent, colony farming planet, hardly involved in UNSC business. Somehow, it’s harder to see more civilian planets get attacked and ultimately glassed. It’s harder, because in the military you sign up for that shit. You sign up expecting that to be your endgame. Civilians… they don’t. Some might, one day, but most aren’t here for that lifestyle. Some of these people even ran from the war. Looks like the war found them.

“Keep moving forward.” Is all Minnie offers, not looking at her teammates, broken up just as much by all of the death and destruction. “Come on, let’s not leave them Dinos waiting.”

“They’ll pay for this.” Everyone stops to stare at Michael, who has the baby against his chest, held in an iron grip. “Every last one of them… I’ll make them pay for this.” He places the baby back into the backpack, using his now free hands to reload his Assault Rifle. He’s angry, they can tell, and it’s terrifying when he gets angry.

“Just stay calm, 57.” Amelia-52, Minnie’s twin sister, orders, giving the youngest a sharp yet concerned look. “You’ll get your revenge, one way or another. Just remember, you’re the one with the baby on your shoulder. You’re the one with someone worth losing.”

Michael looks to the baby, then Amelia, simply giving the older SPARTAN a curt nod of understanding. “Alright.” He mumbles, voice thick, as if he’s still trying to inhale and choke on that Earth shattering rage. “I-I’ll try to keep a lid on it. For the baby… and the mission.”

Minnie smiles, hopeful that Michael might actually be listening to them for once. “That’s good to think about. Anytime you get angry, just repeat that in your head, okay? Just repeat it so you don’t forget.”

Michael accepts that, and nods to Minnie this time, turning around to now lead the way towards their destination. The girls all exchange a look, as if afraid of whether or not they should stop here, but in the end they nod. This got personal for Michael. And now that it’s personal, there ain’t nothing holding the rookie back from those Dinos. They all have personal reasons for being here- Minnie and Amelia lost their dad to this war, Judy got left to fend for herself at a street corner, and Gina lost her planet to a glassing- but Michael… he doesn’t have a history that he can remember.

They don’t even know his story- they may’ve all been scooped up out of their beds at five to six years old, but that doesn’t change the fact that they were scared, confused, and alone- but the UNSC is always telling them to just… watch him. That’s it. It’s like they’re being told to watch a dog for them, or babysit their kid. But they don’t question it, because SPARTANS follow orders, and the orders are to watch him. So they’ll watch him, watch him until they’re told not to anymore. Maybe then they’ll question everything that’s wrong.

...

It’s two more hours before they find the Covenant, and it’s worse than they were told it would be. The Covvies have been getting smarter, have already heard of the SPARTANS, and are ready for them now. Now they go all out. There are three to five Type-47 Ultra Heavy Assault Platforms stomping around, making a mess of everything as they shoot down tall skyscrapers and helpless little shops. The flames are various shades of purple and green hues, and if it weren’t for the war and eyes watching it, the view would’ve been absolutely spectacular and astonishing.

“You know the drill.” Minnie assures her team, turning into the leader she needs to be in an instant. “Shoot the Dinos, rescue the civvies, and look kickass while you do it. Sync.”

“Microwave.” Michael-57 adds jokingly, earning a hard elbow from Stacy-43, who chuckles loudly under her breath as Minnie rolls her eyes at them.

“Real cute, Mike.” Gina comments, but even she’s a little amused. Can always count on Michael to make things a bit better in the face of death and destruction. “Too bad the Dinos ain’t ones for appreciating your looks, kid.”

“Shut up.” Amelia orders, smiling all the while, before that smile disappears at the sound of a loud, shrill scream, coming from the burning city below. “You heard your leader. Get in there! Sync. And, 57-” She grabs Michael’s arm as he makes to follow, nodding towards the backpack on his shoulder. “-You watch out for that, ‘kay?”

Michael nods back, before following his team into the fray. It’s hot everywhere he goes, as he watches human beings burn and melt to death in plasma flames. It’s scenes like these that play like photographed dreams at night, framed in sepia coloring, with little to no narration. Just burning, burning and death and sadness and let-downs, too many to recall in just one cryo-sleep. But nonetheless, Michael is strong as he goes forward, bursting through the flames without a second thought.

Nothing else is relevant other than revenge as he dashes through the destroyed city, shooting at the Jackals on the rooftops, punching the Grunts in his path, wrestling to the ground and choking to death the Elites that dare try to stop him. Everything is a blur of greens, reds, and purples. Later on, for no particular reason other than these images, when a SPARTAN-dressed space marine shows Michael a picture of another man- this one in purple and green power-armor- he will be disgusted and resent the photograph in silence.

The battle does, eventually, end, and as usual, everyone on the team returns mostly alright- Stacy’s got a bullet in her chest, and Ruby’s got one in her foot- but otherwise, everyone seems okay. The girls start to laugh as they regroup- maybe to distract themselves from the millions of casualties around them- but stop as they see Michael, paralyzed where they stand. There’s Michael grinning at them, covered head to toe in plasma burns, Dino blood, and a bit of his own. He’s missing a tooth, too.

“Hello!” Michael-57 greets, waving enthusiastically at his teammates as he jogs over, slightly off-footed, as a bullet is lodged into his right hip bone. “Did I miss the party or what?” He laughs, not at all realizing the seriousness of his condition.

“… Mike?” Gina sounds terrified, looking at Michael’s left shoulder, fear evident in her eyes. “D-Did you take the kid out… BEFORE you went into the fight?” She’s unsure, as they all are.

And just like that, Michael freezes. He doesn’t need to look at the bag to know what state it’s in- burned all over, filled with bullet holes, with plasma still leaking out of it- and he can already feel tears running down his face as it hits him. He killed it. He ran into battle without thinking about the baby, and now it’s dead. It’s mother’s sacrifice was for nothing, and instead it got to burn to death in a backpack, without it’s mother and father there to hold it as the flames lit them into the void of afterlife.

Did it suffer? Was it instant? Michael has no way of knowing. He’s supposed to not feel anything in these sorts of situations- leave that to the ODSTs, Judy usually suggests- but he can’t help it. Michael feels, and when he feels it’s big, loud, and powerful. He can’t function without it. He falls to the ground, weakened not only by the tragic loss, but by the blood leaking like water from the holes in his power-armor. As he closes his eyes, he briefly wonders if this, this darkness around him, was the baby’s last sight before death.

...

The Pelican pilot says nothing as she flies the SPARTANS out of the still burning city, going slower than usual due to the added weight of so many SPARTANS on her ship. Michael-57 keeps his head down as they fly out, the mostly melted remains of the backpack in his big, strong SPARTAN hands. The girls say nothing to him, out of anger or compassion for his situation, no one can be certain. Nonetheless, the Pelican ride ends all too soon and Michael-57 and the girls are flown into the Train of Confidence.

Confidence’s head captain, a Carmelita Jones, walks down the line of SPARTANS standing at attention. She pauses in front of Minnie, looking the oldest girl up and down. “SPARTAN, I understand your mission went accordingly. The Covenant were stopped from glassing all of Greenery and several hundred civilians were rescued by ODST forces. Good job. However, I also understand that there was a… civilian casualty. These things aren’t easy to deal with, SPARTAN.”

“They definitely are not, ma’am.” Minnie agrees, not looking her captain in the eyes. They’re all without their helmets, save Michael, who remains as the only SPARTAN not standing at attention, slumped over and depressed. “I’m afraid our rookie feels responsible for the civilian’s loss.”

Jones turns, as if finally noticing Michael. “I see… understand, 57, this happens very often, and I’m afraid this will not be the last time you see a civilian die in your custody. Just know that you are not alone in this war, SPARTAN.”

Michael sighs, not believing her. “… He was just a baby.” He whispers, voice low and husky. “I didn’t think… he died because I was angry and ran into the fire without protecting him.”

Jones swallows, her eyes growing glassy. No one told her that it was a baby, much less that Michael really WAS responsible for it. “… Get some rest, rookie. I’ll have the ship’s AI talk to you in a little while.” Jones has never been good at comforting, much less with comforting very emotional people like Michael. “The rest of you are dismissed. 51, I expect a full mission draft in my office by six-hundred tomorrow morning.” With that, she walks away.

They all disperse quietly, Stacy-43 patting Michael on the back as she passes by him to the barracks. “Just keep moving forward, Mike. Keep moving forward.”

Amelia stops in front of Michael, giving him a curt nod along with Minnie. “Take care of yourself, okay? Come get us if you need to talk.”

Michael leaves as soon as all the girls leave, walking with an awkwardness to his step. He should head to the med-bay, but the last thing he wants to deal with right now is a doctor nagging at him to stop getting shot at. The walk to his room is mind numbing- his barracks are secluded from the girl’s barracks, seeing as he’s a boy- as his footsteps echo, while off the walls he can almost hear the baby boy crying, crying for him to come and save him from the fire and from the bullets and from the war. He walks faster.

It’s a full five to six minutes of insanity before Michael reaches the tiny room they’ve given him. It’s petty compared to the huge, hanger worthy space his ‘sisters’ own, but it’s doable and he’s not one to complain much. He starts pulling off his armor bit by bit, having to bang the caved-in hinges on the sink in the conjoined bathroom to get some pieces off. It’s when he’s down to his helmet and leg armor that the ship’s AI- a tiny, dark green thing named Sheila- springs to life as a slightly heavier set woman hologram in old military clothing.

“Hello, Michael-57.” Sheila greets, soft and sweet as she smiles at the young SPARTAN in her form. “How was your mission?”

“Why not ask the captain?” Michael usually isn’t one for rude remarks, but he’s also not one for losing people in his care. “You’re the AI on this ship. I’m sure you’ve already heard of how the worst SPARTAN in the history of the UNSC fucked up our whole mission.”

“By my calculations and observations, you and your squad performed effectively and completed the mission with only one casualty.” Sheila replies, crossing her arms with concern on her face. “I believe you did exceptionally well, Michael-57.”

“That casualty could’ve been avoided if I wasn’t so freaking STUPID!” Michael insists, banging his fist with anger on his leg armor, busting it off his leg completely. “I messed up, and now, a baby is DEAD! All because I more or less threw it into a fire and didn’t stop to think it was a bad idea!"

“That is not true, Michael.” Sheila insists right back, unconvinced of her favorite SPARTAN’s guilt. “You did everything in your current power to protect the infant, and it died. You are not to blame.”

“I was RECKLESS!” Michael points out, enraged by the ship AI’s compassion towards him, as if he deserves her thoughtfulness after what he did. “If it had been Minnie or even Stacy, he’d still be alive!” He makes a good point, no matter how sad it is.

“Stop.” Sheila orders, silent until Michael has successfully stopped and has begun to breathe normally again. “After multiple calculations, I have confirmed that in your state of mind during the mission, it was impossible for you to make any other decision other than the one that was made.”

“I… that can’t be right.” Michael whispers, voice sounding distant, trying to figure out what Sheila means by that. “You mean… you mean I was too STUPID to even think about it? I’m so dumb that I can’t even protect a simple baby!?”

“I never said that.” It’s rare that anyone can make Sheila sound so terrified, like she’s made a big, big mistake. “SPARTAN Michael-57, please understand, that that is not at all what I meant by that comment. I now understand that my word choice was incorrect and unthoughtful, and I apologize for that, but-”

Michael stands from his bed, struggling to throw his helmet off. He limps into his bathroom, looking into the dirty mirror he’s been provided. He has dark, jet black hair, shaggy and unkempt. It’s a miracle no one has made him cut it yet. His eyes are crystal blue, glassy due to his need to cry. Finally, dark bags hang gloomy beneath his eyes, mocking his need for sleep and how he’ll probably never get it, even when this war is over and everything is over. He’ll never find peace.

“I’m… I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Sheila says absolutely nothing as Michael watches his reflection, the AI watching as well in the background, arms behind her back, as if waiting to see what will now occur due to her words. “I’m so dumb… I’m sorry, Sheila. Just… just go away for awhile, okay? I gotta think… God, am I even smart enough to think!?”

“Michael-” Sheila is so damn scared for her favorite, scared that she’s damaged him, damaged him in a way that can’t be cured or fixed or changed.

“SHEILA!” Michael’s voice is loud and explosive, the word echoing in the tiny bathroom. “GET OUT!” As soon as Sheila dissipates, Michael begins to shake. He was too stupid, too caught up in anger to see and protect a child he was WARNED was dangerous to keep. But he did it anyways.

He leaves the bathroom, after smashing the mirror with his left fist. There are glass shards imbedded into his bloody knuckles as he walks out, as if in a trance, but he doesn’t seem effected by the cherry red blood dripping to the floor as he lies down on his side on the cot, staring at the wall with his eyes wide open in shock. He’s so stupid, he thinks, feeling empty and unsatisfied. He should probably talk to Minnie, before he really goes off the deep-end, but he’s too tired to get up, too tired of a lot of events and stresses. He falls asleep quickly, too exhausted to continue thinking.

...

Part 1 Complete

A/N: Comment if ya got any questions. I’m planing on making this a sometimes updated fic, which means I’m unsure of when my updates will be. In the meantime, please enjoy what’s here for the time being!

NEXT PART DESCRIPTION: Part 2: Like in the Movies. The UNSC makes few mistakes, and finding Michael certainly isn’t one of them.

~Supercasey.


	2. Part 2: Like in the Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The UNSC makes few mistakes, and finding Michael certainly isn’t one of them.

Caboose the SPARTAN

A/N: A bit of a flashback chapter, to show how and why Caboose was taken in order to become a SPARTAN, as well as bits of his earlier childhood. Please review/comment!

...

It’s cold outside as she leads him down the busy street, cars zooming by over the speed limit. No one’s pulling them over- all the cops went to war- so everyone simply gives them dirty looks. The woman continues to her destination, more or less dragging along a tall six year old boy. The boy has dark, messy black hair, all curled and uneven. He’s missing one of his front teeth, and he has a small, cat-scratch-like scar running over his left cheek, ending just under his chin. It pulls whenever he grins, but that in no way keeps the angel-eyed boy from waving and smiling at any pedestrians that pass by him. None of the people ever wave or smile back, too caught up in drowning out the world with war-age music.

The year is 2517, and the war is still going strong. This planet is called Shipwreck- any ship that comes by always seem to be in terrible condition or crashes on it, causing the planet to eventually name itself after it’s bad luck- and it’s full of big cities and military bases. This is one of those big cities, named Vanilla by the locals, as it’s rather famous for several family owned coffee shops that’ve kept the city running for years. The woman who is dragging the boy has only one name to the child: Mother. That’s enough for him, but not for her. She goes faster, eventually settling for scooping up her child and jogging to her destination.

It’s difficult for her, considering the boy is much bigger than those his age, but she manages it, taking him down the busy street until she finds a video store. She sighs with content as they finally make it, setting her son down so that she can take his hand and enter the store. The boy follows obediently- all children, no matter their age, are trained early these days to be obedient, or the Covvies will surely come for them- and waves at the cashier, who doesn’t say anything in response. The woman behind the counter is old and tired, but looks surprised as she spots the mother, giving her a hesitant look.

“Janet?” The cashier inquires, looking the mother up and down. “What in the world are you doing here at this hour? Don’t you have your work at the factory this evening?”

“I lost my job, Jessie.” Janet explains, gripping her son’s hand just a bit tighter. “Can you… can you and Veronica watch my son for the evening while I go job-hunting? I-I can’t just drag him behind me all day, but don’t worry, he’ll be very good! Won’t you, Mikey?” She looks down at the child, who nods encouragingly.

“Yes, Mother. I’ll be very good!” Mikey promises, giving his mother a hopeful grin. He’s trying his best to be a good kid, but it’s hard.

“See?” Janet gives Jessie a desperate look, as if she’ll die without her help. “Please, Jessie. You’re the only friend I’ve got left whose not at war! Can you please just watch him for the evening? I’ll be back by eight, I swear!”

Jessie looks to Mikey, then to Janet, giving her a small nod and a smile. “Anything for an old friend, Janet. Me and Veronica can watch him until you’re done. Don’t you worry about a thing, Veronica is his age, so I’m sure they’ll get along fine.”

Janet sighs with relief, crouching down to look her son in the eyes. “Michael, listen to me. Mother is going to be gone for a few hours, but when she gets back and she hears you’ve been good for Mrs. Jessie, she’ll get you a new toy car. Does that sound good?”

Michael brightens right away, clapping his hands excitedly. “Yes! That sounds very good! I’ll be good, I swear! Just come back really soon, okay? I don’t wanna be alone all night.”

“I’ll be back before ya know it.” Janet promises, standing up and pressing a chaste kiss to her son’s temple before making for the door, hand pausing on the door-handle. “If I’m not back in time… can you watch him for a little longer, Jessie?” She asks her old friend, sounding hesitant.

Jessie swallows. She has a very, very bad feeling about all of this. “Of course. Anything for you, Jan.” She repeats, trying to hide her inner fear.

“Mommy?” A little girl with thick, curly brown hair, big green eyes, and freckle-painted skin steps out from the backroom of the store, giving her mother a hesitant look. “What’s going on? Whose this lady?”

“She’s just an old friend, Veronica. Honey, this boy here is her son Michael. Would you like to take him into the back and watch a video with him?” It’s a distraction for the kids, Jessie knows, but she has a feeling that they shouldn’t be involved in this business.

“Okey dokey!” Veronica replies, skipping over to Michael. She’s wearing a simple brown and red dress, with socks covering her bronze skinned feet. “Your name is Michael, right? I think Mommy has ‘Lucy - The Dino Whisperer’ if you wanna watch that.”

“Okay!” Michael cheers, following his newly made friend into the backroom, the door slamming shut behind them, leaving Jessie and Janet to stare at each other.

“… It’s been a long time, Jan.” Jessie comments, crossing her arms to give her old friend a stern glare. “I heard about what happened to Dominic, how he died recently in a battle. I’m sorry about that. I have a feeling there’s more to this that you’re not telling me.”

“Never could lie as a kid.” Janet muses, tilting her head at her friend. “You were always the clever one, Jess. Well, you’re not wrong. But I am looking for a job, and I do want to come back for my son. It’s just… I’m in a rough spot right now. You remember Carl, right?”

Jessie scoffs, but nods. “That moron… got kicked out of the marines, right? That asshole was always getting into trouble. I heard he got shipped back to Shipwreck a few months ago. Is this about him, Jan?”

Janet nods, swallowing around a lump in her throat. “He’s been… good to us, me and Michael. He’s been letting us stay in his house just off of the city. But, I’m afraid he’s been getting a bit… moody. I’m trying to find some work, but I don’t trust him alone with Michael anymore. I’m sorry to leave him with you, but I have no choice.”

Jessie sighs, but seems to accept this. "Alright. Just… come back for him, okay? He might have inherited Dominic’s size and looks, but I can tell that he’s still very little. He’d be a wreck without you around.”

“I know.” Is all Janet says to that comment, staring at her feet, hand still hesitating over the door-handle. “Thank you for this, Jess. It means a lot to me, especially in these hard times. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I just need to sort a few things out before I can.” With that, she’s out the front door, not waiting for something to stop her

...

“Your mommy seems nice.” Veronica comments as she and Michael sit together in a large beanbag chair, playing video games. They’re both small enough still to fit in just one beanbag.

The movie was over quickly, not that either of them had paid much attention to it in the first place. They get along well, amazingly so, and were surprised to find that they have a lot in common. Michael nods his head in agreement as he flies through the game with Veronica, both keeping up with the enemies around them and jumping at the right times as they play Super Mario, the two working together in Two Player Mode. Michael doesn’t have any video games at home, but Veronica can tell that he’s already amazing at them, doing just a bit better than her. But she keeps up, in the end even getting a slightly higher score than him on the level.

“Yeah, Mother is the greatest.” Michael agrees, selecting the next level as he licks at where the empty space is between his front teeth. It’s a bad habit, his mother tells him when it bothers her. “And so is Carl. He watches me sometimes, but I guess Mother can’t ask him since she’s so busy today.”

“Where does your mommy work?” Veronica asks, taking her eyes off the screen long enough to glance at Michael. His clothes aren’t much better than her’s- no one is rich on Shipwreck- but she does notice that he has slightly less ripped up and worn out clothing than her.

Michael shrugs, accidentally dying in the video game. “Gosh darn it.” He mutters, sighing angrily as he re-spawns. “I dunno where Mother works. I think she works at the same place Carl does, but I’m not allowed to ask.”

Veronica pauses the game, giving Michael a serious look. “You’re not allowed to ask questions?” She asks, looking confused. “That’s super weird. My Mommy always tells me to ask questions whenever I don’t know something.”

“I can ask SOME questions.” Michael insists, looking a bit peeved that Veronica has stopped the game, but likes her enough not to let it get to him. “Just not certain ones, like if Carl’s gonna be my new father, or if Father is coming home or not, or if Carl has a job. I guess it’s all just grown up stuff.”

”Yeah… my Mommy doesn’t like talking about Daddy that much, at least, not around my birthday or the holidays. My Daddy went to war, but sometimes he sends postcards to me and Mommy. I’ve never met him, but Mommy has!” Veronica explains, smiling fondly as she remembers the postcards.

“No way, my father went to war, too!” Michael exclaims, but he’s not really that surprised about this revelation. Just about everybody at school’s dad is at war, and anyone whose dad isn’t is either dead or they’re made fun of. “But… Mother says that there’s been an accident where he’s at. I hope he gets home soon, I wanna meet him someday.”

“I hope my Daddy comes home, too.” Veronica agrees, and it grows quiet afterwards. After a good few minutes pass by, Veronica un-pauses the game, causing them both to once again loosen up and enjoy themselves. “So, are we gonna have a sleepover do ya think?” She asks, looking excited at the idea.

Michael, again, shrugs. “I think you’re pretty cool, but I dunno if Mother wants me to or not. She said if I’m good, then I can have a new toy car!” He explains excitedly, finishing off the level with a big grin on his face. “Ha! I win this time!”

Veronica laughs, giving Michael a warm smile in return. “Well, whatever happens, I hope we get to play more soon. You’re funny!”

The two continue to play video games for hours and hours, forgetting entirely about the very adult situation occurring around them. Across the street in a coffee shop sits a young woman, her ODST helmet- a bright eggshell color with a purple plus sign- resting on the table in front of her. She drinks down her espresso in silence, chewing her bubblegum in-between sips of her drink. Sitting across from her is another ODST, also not wearing his helmet of matching color. He has his on his lap as he observes the video store across the street, able to watch the cashier inside, keeping an eye out for any suspicious characters who may dare to enter and endanger their mission.

“Do you think we’ll make the raid tonight?” The female ODST asks, looking over her phone, chuckling at the sight of a comical picture. “God, this coffee is amazing. Why not try some, Clawson?”

“I’m busy doing something productive, Troy.” Clawson snaps back almost bitterly, eyes never leaving the store front. “And yes, I think I heard Berkley mentioning that it’ll be tonight… and I think that might be for the best.”

“How so? The family moving?” Troy actually shivers at the idea. Veronica Amethyst is pretty high on the list of candidates for the program, and they can’t risk losing her. She may be small, but she’s highly intelligent.

“No, in fact, this is the perfect night to go for it. You remember seeing that lady walk in with the kid earlier?” When Troy nods, Clawson hands her a data-pad. “That kid is Michael Jupiter. The same one we’ve been thinking of going for.”

“Michael Jupiter?” Troy looks through the data-pad, before smiling, remembering Halsey’s earlier lecture about which kids on Shipwreck they should think of grabbing and replacing with flash-clones. “Oh, yeah, I remember that kid. But… we don’t have a flash-clone for that one.”

“It’s fine.” Clawson assures her, almost sounding… sad. “I don’t think that woman is coming back for him, as depressing as that is. Now’s as good a time as any to grab him before Social Services picks him up. Otherwise, he’s out of the question.”

“I’ll inform the captain.” Troy promises, already texting their superior officer the latest news. “I gotta tell ya, when I first heard we were doing this, I thought Halsey was mental. But now that we’re actually doing this… I think we can turn this war around.”

“I sure hope so. You ever lose a parent to it?” It’s an odd question, since most everyone has, but sometimes you still find people virtually unaffected by the war. When Troy hesitantly shakes her head no, Troy sighs, almost glad for her. “My mother was a space marine. I lost her when I was fifteen… it was awful.” He explains, shaking his head sadly at the memory. “Dad signed up for the war two days later. Didn’t even survive one damn battle.”

“That’s really awful, Clawson. I dunno, I just… never lost anybody in my family to it. Dad was a business man, and Mom was a chef. I guess I was a lucky one. Just signed up 'cus my girlfriend did.” Troy swallows around a lump in her throat, looking away. “Can we just… stop talking about this? It’s hard to think about sometimes.”

“Got it.” Clawson promises, giving his partner a helpful pat on the shoulder, to ground her and keep her in the moment. “Come on. Let’s call Brooklyn and tell her we’re ready.”

Without being asked, Troy stands, throwing her empty, cardboard coffee cup into a recycling basket. It was really good damn coffee, but they’ve got a lot more planing before they make the raid. No time for a refill. It’s going to be a long night, Troy thinks, pulling on her helmet and grabbing her messenger bag, but at least it’s going to be worth it in the end. This has the possibility of ending the whole goddamn war, and Hell, if Troy has even the slightest chance to change things for the better, shouldn’t she go for it? She’s here for very different reasons than most- she never had to lose a mom or dad to cheap, guerrilla warfare tactics via Covenant- but they’re reasons and they’re better than having none at all.

...

Michael awakes to the sound of footsteps near the bed, and shoots up like a rocket, looking around with big, baby blue eyes, trying to find the source of the noise. It’s about two-thirteen at night, and his Mother never did show up to get him, so at ten-thirty, he was given a large T-shirt that used to belong to Jessie’s husband to wear and was put to bed with Veronica. They’re both only around six years old, so Jessie saw little problem with them sharing a bed. Due to Michael’s stirring, Veronica rolls over to face the wall, too heavy of a sleeper to hear the noise or be roused completely by Michael’s squirming.

The six year old holds his breath, feeling uneasy, before deducing it to be a need to use the bathroom. Careful not to wake Veronica, Michael scoots out from under the covers, bare-feet landing noiselessly on the wooden flooring of the bedroom. He hurries to the little bathroom right off of Veronica’s room, hands over his crotch to keep him from wetting himself. After finding the bathroom, he turns on the dolphin nightlight plugged into the wall, using it as a light-source as he relieves himself into the toilet. He sighs with lazy content, jumping however as a loud and audible thump sounds from Veronica’s room.

Not bothering to wash his hands or turn off the nightlight, Michael scurries out of the bathroom on his tiptoes, silent as a mouse. He peeks into Veronica’s bedroom, inhaling almost too loudly as he catches sight of the intruders. There are three of them, one holding a sleeping Veronica, one holding nothing, and another holding… another sleeping Veronica!? Michael is so confused, but he knows better than to make himself known as he watches from afar, trying to figure out internally what to do. Oh, if only he were at home with Mother and Carl! He knows that Carl keeps a pistol in his closet. If only he had such a weapon!

“Be quiet, you dumbass!” The woman holding Veronica #1 whisper/yells, looking enraged as she tries to keep quiet herself while holding Veronica. “You’re gonna wake her up!”

“Sorry!” The man whispers sadly, hands up in surrender. He’s not holding either of the Veronica’s. “I didn’t mean to! Hey… where’s Michael? His mother never came back to the store to get him, he should be here!”

“Shh!” The third lady reminds the man, tucking Veronica #2 into bed, replacing the original. “We can’t afford for you to wake up the child OR it’s flash-clone! I dunno where Michael Jupiter is, but you better hurry up and find him. We need to be back to the ship by four-thirty, or else-”

They all jump as a loud ’Oof’ escapes from the hallway. Michael tripped on a bouncy ball, and is now lying right in the doorway, being stared at by all of the ODSTs. The woman who tucked the flash-clone into bed curses, very slowly starting to walk towards Michael. “Easy there, kiddo.” She urges, trying to calm him down. “Come here, okay? I’ll give you some candy if you do.”

Michael screeches, and God, where’s Jessie when you need her? He runs away at full speed from the ODST, who follows after him along with the man. For a few moments, it’s cat and mouse, with Michael hiding all over the small apartment above the video store until he sneaks out a window, using the gutter as a firemen pole as he slides down, before landing in a crouch. He takes off into the street behind the store, seeing car lights and traffic signals up ahead. He’s so close to getting away, he can practically smell it. Out of nowhere, however, the male ODST tries to grab Michael from behind, almost getting him.

Michael ducks just in time, swinging around, trying to get a punch in at him. But the man is an ODST, and has fought far more terrifying and dangerous enemies than little Michael. Realizing this, Michael takes off between the man’s legs, trying to run back into the store. To save Veronica or just out of panic, he’s unsure, but he certainly finds it’s a bad idea as he runs straight into the woman ODST. He screeches, out of instinct, and barely gets away from her arms in time. Panicking and suddenly needing to pee again, Michael back-flips away- he’s seen the neighborhood teens do parkour and they’ve shown him more than one cool trick- only to be snatched up quickly and forcefully by the male ODST, much to his distress.

“Got him!” The man promises, holding the squirming boy in a tight grip as the woman ODST slowly makes her way over to them. “Nice going, Brooklyn. Really? Offering him candy!? You’re so fucking dumb, we almost lost him!”

“Shut up.” Brooklyn orders, shrugging as she pats Michael on the head, who tries to bite her, ultimately missing by a mile. “Geez, calm down, kiddo. We ain’t gonna hurt you. Just relax, okay?”

Michael refuses valiantly, continuing to screech and struggle. “Let me go! Let me go!” He insists, kicking and punching as he tries to break free of the man’s hold on him. “You can’t take me! Let me go, and leave Veronica alone!”

The man squeaks, receiving a rather well-aimed kick to the stomach. “Shit! Brooklyn, please, you take the little fucker! Kid’s got a killer kick.” As soon as Brooklyn takes Michael, the man doubles over, continuing to moan and complain. “Ugh… I think he knocked something loose…”

Michael can almost hear Brooklyn roll her eyes. “You dramatic pissbaby, get over it. You’re just lucky he didn’t aim a bit lower.” As Michael watches the man moan, finding it hard not to laugh at his own success, he doesn’t notice Brooklyn injecting him until she’s pulling the empty syringe out of his bare arm. The child’s eyes widen as he turns to look at her, full of hurt and betrayal. “Just relax, kid.” She offers, even rocking him a bit to calm the kid down. “Just go to sleep.”

Michael accepts sleep as it comes to him, unconsciousness causing him to forget, momentarily, of just how much his life has changed over the course of one, simple day.

...

Part 2 Complete

A/N: I regret to inform you all, but my grandfather has just passed away today. As sad as it is, I don’t know when I’ll update next as a result. Thank you, however, for reading what I have so far.

NEXT PART DESCRIPTION: Part 3: Candy-Coated. Being abducted along with your new best friend is harsh, but as Michael learns, there are- however few- perks to living with the UNSC. The ups and downs of Michael’s abduction.

~Supercasey.


	3. Part 3: Candy-Coated

Caboose the SPARTAN

A/N: Sorry it took longer than my last update, but again, I’m unsure of when updates will be. In the meantime, I hope you’re all enjoying what I’ve got so far! Please review!

...

Everything is… warm. Warm like a heated blanket. Michael smiles absentmindedly, squirming around on what he suddenly realizes is definitely NOT his bed. He almost shoots up as a result of his surprise, but holds back, feeling like he’s being watched by millions of eyes. As he begins to wake up more, he can hear things more clearly. The tapping sound of heels/boots on a clean, hard-tile floor, sounding not too far off, pass by him every so often. He can hear a different tapping, too. This sound is more energized, hyperactive, and afraid. Someone’s hitting bullet-proof glass, little fists beating at a near-invisible force-field keeping them locked in. Very slowly, Michael feels the need to see rather than feel and hear, and opens his eyes to the world surrounding him.

As predicted and hinted at by his findings thus far, Michael is lying inside of some sort of bedchamber, made to fit someone much, much larger than him. It’s not tall enough that he can stand upright, but Michael eventually does roll over, sitting up on his knees to look around. Around him are other bedchambers, containing children that can’t be much older or younger than himself. Some are awake already, acting as the ones pounding on the glass in a frenzy, while others are still fast asleep, looking at peace with the world. Remembering foggy thoughts from the night before, Michael searches the room for Veronica, successfully finding her in the bed-chamber to his right, still fast asleep. Printed on her bedchamber is a laminated chart.

On the chart is information about Veronica: her age, height, weight, dominant hand, hair color, eye color, etc. But what really catches Michael’s eye is a big, black, bolded number, that takes up more than half the sheet. 56. Michael’s brow furrows, confused by the strange number, trying internally to deduce why that number would be special to his friend. Suddenly, knocking Michael out of his thoughts completely, a tall man in a white, pristine lab-coat steps beside Veronica’s bedchamber, though he looks into Michael’s. He grins, adjusting his glasses as he scribbles hastily into a notebook, afterwards turning to a control-panel on Michael’s bedchamber, pressing a button connecting to an intercom inside.

“Hello, Michael.” The man greets, unable to keep his glee a secret. “I see that you’re finally awake. Aren’t you a curious thing, already trying to deduce where you are and what’s going on. Children are truly fascinating. I’m Dr. Browning by the way.”

Michael doesn’t say anything back, tilting his head as he tries to figure the man out. The doctor has short, neat, slicked back brown hair, glossy due to an excess of hair-gel. His eyes are startlingly russet, making Michael’s own eyes widen with wonder. "Relax, Michael. I’m not going to harm you.” Dr. Browning assures the boy, glancing occasionally at his notebook for information. “I see that you’re about… six years and two months old? Not our youngest candidate, but you’re close!”

Out of nowhere, another man approaches, this one in white ODST armor with purple accents. He has his helmet off, hair a messy wreck. “Dr. Browning, please, for the millionth time, the kids need their rest before you go messin’ with ‘em!”

Dr. Browning rolls his eyes, stealing a wink Michael’s way, confusing the small boy even more than before. “At ease, Clawson. I assure you, the children have slept long enough as it is. Why not let them out in the gym? Look, they’re already getting stir-crazy as it is.”

Clawson groans, glancing Michael’s way. ”Goddamn, Dr. Browning… fine, I’ll check with management and see if we can give 'em some time to exercise.“ He walks off, looking for a superior officer by the looks of it.

With Clawson gone, Dr. Browning turns his attention back to Michael, right hand tracing faintly over the laminated label on Michael’s bedchamber. "Michael-57… I have a feeling that you’re going to be doing some amazing things in the near future.” He then, like Clawson, leaves Michael in peace.

Michael waits anxiously until he’s sure that all of the ODSTs and doctors are away from his chamber, before tapping repeatedly on the glass, trying to get Veronica’s attention. “Psst, Veronica! Hey! Wake up! Come on, Veronica! You gotta get up!”

Veronica stirs, but doesn’t wake up, instead, she rolls over, facing away from Michael and towards another trapped child to her right. Frustrated, Michael flops down on his bed, surprised to find that he has no blankets or pillows to keep him feel warm or safe. Then again, it seems that the bedchambers can produce their own heat, eliminating the need for any such bedtime necessities. It’s not long before Michael grows bored of daydreaming and wondering, and he instead sits up again, trying to look for a way out. Some of the other kids are doing the same, no longer screaming and kicking like wild animals, but thinking more rationally in order to seek out a way of escape.

However, before the kidnapped children can come up with a logical solution to their predicament, all of the bedchambers simultaneously open. At first, no one moves until a tall, brave boy with short brown hair and blue eyes hops off of his bed, giving the other’s a nod of approval. It’s safe. At once, all of the children who’re awake start throwing themselves off of their beds, running around screaming to release their built-up frustrations and energy. Michael is hesitant, drawing his knees to his chest as a defensive shield. However, the first boy to have moved notices this, and jogs over to Michael. Out of all of the other children, this boy is taking things much better than the rest.

“I’m John.” The boy explains, holding out a hand to Michael. “It’s safe, I promise. Don’t worry, we’re not playing ’The floor is lava’ or anything.”

Michael, again, hesitates, but this John kid makes him feel safe enough. So, with a long inhale and exhale, Michael takes John’s hand and climbs slowly off of his bed, running to Veronica’s side as soon as he’s certain it’s safe. "Thank you.” Michael remembers to tell John as he runs to Veronica, smiling at the other boy.

John simply nods, coming to stand beside Michael. “Is this your friend?” He asks, and upon earning a nod smiles. “She seems nice. What’s your name anyhow?”

Michael turns his attention away from the sleeping Veronica, giving John a wide grin of his very own. “I’m Michael, but some kids call my Mike.”

“Nice to meet ya, Michael.” John responds, taking Michael’s hand and shaking it, as if reassuring him that he’s real. “I’m gonna go see if anybody I know is here. See ya later!” He runs off before Michael can stop him.

Michael watches him go, feeling like he should follow him. Instead, he stays by Veronica’s bedside, loyal to his short-time friend before this John character. Due to problematic happenings in his future, Michael will not learn that he met the Master Chief himself until it’s been far too long.

...

The ODSTs watch the children from afar, as if parents at a park or school field trip. They say almost nothing, only answering children’s questions with ’go play’. They’ve gathered them all up in a big, spacious gymnasium. There’s equipment and sport toys everywhere, a few kids even starting up games. Not everyone is happy and playing, Michael notices. Some kids are hiding under the bleachers or in corners, crying softly or bawling loudly as they beg to see their parents again. Some kids have already accepted this change, playing and talking like nothing is wrong. Michael feels… undecided. On one hand, he’s scared and in a new place, wanting to go home. On the other hand, there’s a lot of toys and things to play with that he’s never had much access to before.

Michael tries playing soccer for a bit with some of the other kids, but they’ve already seemed to have formed a group and ignore him, causing the dark haired boy to stroll off on his own. Eventually, Michael settles for the indoor monkey bars, jumping up with ease and swinging indignantly. After a few swings and tricks, Michael catches the eye of one of the doctors- the doctors are a bit more social than the ODSTs, watching the games closely and taking notes- who walks over and starts scribbling things down. A bit peeved still with the staff, Michael jumps down from the monkey bars, hoping to disappoint the doctor. Instead, he only seems more interested, and follows Michael from a safe distance as he storms off.

Frustrated, Michael kicks a dodgeball on the floor against the wall, causing the bouncy ball to connect loudly with the wall, flying into the air before managing to hit one of the ODSTs square in the helmet. For a moment, no one speaks, before the gym erupts with laughter. Hell, even the ODSTs and doctors chuckle. Finding this to be satisfying enough to ward off his own anger, Michael walks calmly over to where he spots Veronica in the corner. The doctor leaves afterwards, chasing after another kid to observe and stalk. Glad to be free of prying eyes, Michael crouches down next to Veronica. She’s not crying very loudly, but loud enough for Michael to easily hear.

For awhile, Veronica just cries, with Michael staring at the floor, face scrunched up in thought as he tries not to cry, too. “I wanna go home.” Veronica cries, rubbing her tear-stained cheeks with a balled up fist. “I want my mommy.”

Michael simply nods, before remembering a scene in a movie where the hero of the movie rubbed their crying partner’s back soothingly. Taking the tip, Michael starts rubbing Veronica’s back, feeling awkward as he does so. “Don’t worry, Veronica. Mother and your mommy will come get us soon, you don’t need to cry.”

“But I’m scared!” Veronica insists, breathing faster as she tries not to choke. “I don’t wanna be here! I wanna go home and see mommy and watch videos like I always get to do! These people are scary and creepy! They won’t tell me anything!” She punches the wall beside her with the word ’anything’ leaving her mouth, a loud bang exploding in the gymnasium.

All at once, this seems to really hit home for the other children. Veronica’s right: the doctors and ODSTs refuse to tell them what’s going on, and even if playing and running around is pretty fun, they still have no idea where they are or what’s happened to their parents. A sudden sensation fills the room, and immediately, almost all the kids starting screaming and crying, some throwing themselves to the ground from the force of it, others just standing their with their hands as little fists as tears trail down their young faces. Hell, even John’s crying a little, although he’s trying to hide it. That’s enough to break Michael. He begins sobbing like a baby, falling down beside Veronica and curling into a tight ball.

For a long time, the only noise is the crying children, before a big, steel door opens and shuts abruptly, echoing through the gym. The children near said door stop crying at once, staring with big eyes at whoever has entered. Michael doesn’t look up, all the way on the other side of the gym, until something cold and rounded is pressed against his arm. He looks up, peeking behind folded arms, only to see a young woman with long, blonde hair, and grey/blue eyes. The woman smiles at him as she catches his eyes, John standing a few feet behind her, eating from a small cup of ice cream using a spoon. A cup of similar looking ice cream is being held out to Michael, it being what startled him.

Hesitant as a mouse, Michael reaches up and takes it, getting onto his knees as he’s handed a spoon to eat the treat with. Beside him, Veronica’s eating ice cream as well, it being handed to her by a young man with black hair and blue eyes like the woman. Soon, Michael notices that all of the children in the gym are having ice cream, save for one or two, who are probably lactose intolerant and are having small pieces of cake. The children eat quietly, all red-eyed from their crying with a few tears still falling here and there, but no one speaks. Either from fear or because their mouths are too occupied with their given tasks, no one cares to know. Finally, the woman who handed Michael his ice cream coughs, calling for their attention.

“As some of you may have already figured out, you have all been taken to a remote facility, far away from your homes.” The woman begins, and when no one speaks, she sighs with relief at the quietness. “Right now, civilization as we know it is in great peril, and we need heroes to protect humanity. That is why we have chosen all of you- the smartest, strongest, and most logical children of a generation- to come together and become SPARTANS.” The room erupts into a soft murmur, before the woman holds up her hand, calling for their silence once again. “I know that this is a terrible curse for any man to have, much less a child, but we can no longer wait idly by until you have all reached maturity. Right now, we need all the help we can get.”

The woman continues, with everyone’s eyes on her. "Very soon, you will all be separated into groups. The groups will be formed judging on the skills you have already shown while playing these last few hours, as well as through observations made before you were taken. I feel now is a good time to get to the hardest part of this change to your lives: you will never see your family’s again. As of now, you are all children of the UNSC, and will be allowed to keep your first names. However, your last names will now be replaced by a number, the same ones that were printed onto your bedchambers. You may go back to your playing in a moment, but for the next few hours, one by one you will be taken into the examination rooms for a bath, a tattooing of your number onto your wrist, and a haircut. Any questions?”

It’s quiet, before John steps up behind the woman, tugging on her coat to earn her attention. “Um, ma'am? Um… who are you?” He asks, sounding almost shy.

The woman chuckles, giving John a kind look. “My name is Dr. Halsey.” She explains, walking back towards the doors she entered through. “Now then, onto business… Alice Harbor?” A girl looks up, eyes wide with fright. “You first, dear.” The girl follows, although hesitantly, and the doors close menacingly behind them, the noise echoing and thunderous.

Michael watches them both go, feeling a deep, deep sense of foreboding. He continues eating absently, wondering just how much his life is going to change. A SPARTAN, huh? Sounds pretty funny to him. At least the ice creams good. Strawberry.

...

“Michael Jupiter?”

Michael jumps with fright, surprised by the sudden noise. Leaving the room with Halsey right behind her is Veronica, shivering slightly. Her head is shaved now, just like everyone else’s whose gone in and out of the room, but she seems unharmed. She’s wearing a white T-shirt now, along with green shorts with Veronica-56 embroidered into the hem. Michael rushes her as soon as she appears, causing Halsey to chuckle with amusement, but Michael ignores the doctor, too busy checking Veronica for any serious injuries. On her right wrist is Veronica-56, the area around the newly tattooed letters red and painful looking. He shoots Halsey an accusing glare, forgetting momentarily of the gifted treat from earlier.

“Settle down, Michael.” Halsey orders, ruffling Michael’s hair almost fondly. “You’ll have one of your own soon enough, Come along now, we shouldn’t waste anymore time.”

Giving Veronica a sad look, Michael follows after Halsey behind the steel doors, Veronica giving him an encouraging nod in return. The doors close behind Michael like a drum, and he jumps, surprised by the intensity of the noise. The hallway is long, like a school hallway leading to the principal’s office, but with less posters on the walls. Halsey leads Michael into the first room on the left, with a sign that says ’Washroom’ on the front. Halsey doesn’t follow Michael inside, pushing him in gently before closing and locking the door behind him, trapping the young boy inside. Michael swallows around a lump in his throat, feeling as if he’s about to face his executor. Before him is a big curtain, surrounding what looks to be a tub on the other side.

“Please come forward.” Michael is startled by the voice at first, ducking and hiding behind a large, potted plant beside the door. “Oh come now, please don’t make this anymore difficult than it already is, boy. Come here.”

Hesitantly, Michael comes forward, the curtain being pushed back to reveal a tall, young man on his knees by the basin, pulling on a fresh pair of rubber gloves. "That’s a good boy.” The man praises, helping Michael pull off the over-sized T-shirt that he’s been wearing since before he was kidnapped. “My, aren’t you skinny. Oh well, that too will be taken care of over time.”

The man then pulls down Michael’s underwear, who doesn’t resist, not as embarrassed as some kids might be of being seen naked. Wasting no time, the man scoops Michael up and places him in the basin, already filled with warm, bubbly water. ”Stop that.“ The man orders when Michael starts splashing, making a mess. "You can play later. Right now you need to hold still so I can clean you. Arms up.”

Michael obeys, the man letting out a short hum of praise, encouraging the obedience as he scrubs Michael’s armpits. "Good. Sit down, and legs up.” Once again, Michael does what he’s told, almost going under as he tries to put his legs over the side of the basin. Thankfully, the water only goes up to his nose when he’s lying back like this. “Quit squirming! I can’t clean you when you’re moving!” The doctor snaps, making Michael huff. “Oh, stop that. I’m being as gentle as I can.”

Michael doubts that, hating the way the scrub-brush stings his skin slightly, but he knows better than to fight, kick, and scream. He obeys, with a bit of eye-rolling to be fair, but he does indeed follow the doctor’s orders until he’s permitted clean. Draining the water, the doctor wraps Michael in a scratchy towel, drying him off mechanically before forcing a white, over-sized T-shirt over his head. He doesn’t even bother with underpants, since Michael’s parts and ass can’t be seen due to the shirt’s size. He scoops Michael up as soon as the shirt is on, leaving the washroom. Fast as a bullet, the doctor takes Michael into another room, this one with a ’!Quiet!’ sign on the front, and nothing else. Like Halsey, he simply leaves Michael inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

The door bangs shut, and instinctively, Michael backs up. but his back hits a cold, metal door instead of an escape route. There’s a big, intimidating dentist-type chair in the middle of the room, with a small but efficient looking stand beside it, along with a tall, adjustable chair. In the chair is a man, whose readying a long, sanitized tattoo needle, running a clothe over the the metal stick. He spots Michael and pulls off his helmet, giving the boy a wiry grin. He has a tattoo of his own going down his collarbone, showing a bit from under his doctor’s coat. He adjusts the dentist-style chair to go down, high enough now for Michael to climb on. The man smirks at him, patting the chair almost lovingly. Michael notices, as he tries again to press himself against the wall, that the tattoo artist’s name-tag reads ’Jordan Monroe’.

"Come here, Michael.” Jordan Monroe urges, pulling back on his helmet. “It’s time to get your tattoo.”

...

Part 3 Complete

A/N: And here’s Part 3! God, I’m hooked on this fucking AU! Please review!

NEXT PART DESCRIPTION: Part 4: Blood-Loss. While there are perks to becoming a child owned by the UNSC, there are a lot more downsides. Tattoos, for example.

~Supercasey.


	4. Part 4: Blood-Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While there are perks to becoming a child owned by the UNSC, there are a lot more downsides. Tattoos, for example.

Caboose the SPARTAN

A/N: I promise you all, that beginning first part is VERY important later on, but I just wanted to start when he’s older and have it suddenly flashback as a way of telling the story mostly as he grows up, but hinting at what he’ll one day become. Also, this is a pretty long chapter… I’m not sorry.

...

“Let go of me! Let go of me!”

“Grab him!”

This scene is not unlike the scene from the night before, for Michael. He’s being held down valiantly by Clawson and Troy, both in full ODST armor, while he screams, struggles, and puts up his best fight as the tattoo artist- Jordan Monroe- struggles even harder to start up on the tattoo. Already, Michael wants absolutely no part of this SPARTAN-II program, as they obvious have zero idea how much getting a tattoo HURTS. He kicks and bites, managing to knock one of his own teeth loose on Troy’s arm armor, but isn’t nearly as successful as he’s been hoping to be, Clawson groans as he holds Michael down, very careful to not let the little monster get a kick in below his belt, while Troy seems unaffected by the boy’s fighting, even amused by it. Jordan groans- not unlike Clawson- and finally finishes the name ’Michael’ on the boy’s wrist.

“Jesus Christ, he’s the worst one yet.” Jordan makes sure to comment, aiming a harsh glare from under his helmet at Michael. “I’ve never had such a squirmy patient in here! Ya know, before he went in, Halsey told me he was gentle! Bitch didn’t count on him being such a little fucker I guess.”

“Shut up, Dan.” Troy orders, letting out a loud ’Oof’ as Michael manages to kick her straight in the stomach, knocking the air right out of her. “Ow! Shit! Little motherfucker has a kick to him!” Upon exclaiming this, Clawson chuckles under his breath, yelping seconds later as Troy clubs him in the knee. “Asshole. It’s not funny when I’m the one getting kicked.”

"Now you know what it’s like.” Is all Clawson replies, focusing more on controlling the angry child as Jordan starts up on the dash. “Geez, buddy, calm down! Dan here is almost done, then you can get your haircut and go back to kicking kids your own size. Won’t that be fun? Just cooperate, for God’s sake!”

“There’s no use, just wait him out and keep him still.” Jordan suggests, keeping for the most part quiet as he finishes the dash, drawing a screech out of Michael, only because he’s accidentally drawn blood. “Oh, shit!” He mutters, gently wiping off the blood from the rest of the angry red tattoo. “Sorry, kid. See what happens when you squirm?”

“Let me go, you big jerks!” Michael shouts, trying to become stronger because of the pain, like Yang from that one kid’s show his mother lets him watch sometimes: RWBY! God, he’s really starting to miss Mother now. If only Yang were here to help him, surely she could stop these people from ripping his arm open!

“Jesus Christ, he’s like a cat. One minute he’s all sweet and eating the food ya give ‘em, the next he’s trying to bite off your fingers for next to nothing!” Clawson explains, talking like he’s had experience with such ferocious felines. He probably has.

“Ya know, tattoos DO hurt, Jackass.” Troy helpfully points out, for once agreeing with the little monster. “I mean, I have, like, four tattoos of my own. They all stung like a bitch to get.”

“Listen to the lady! Listen to the lady!” Michael begs, glad to have someone momentarily on his side. He’s no longer trying to be brave, as he’s too scared and hurt to be a fighter. Now he just wants to go home, and for this terrible nightmare to end!

“Almost done…” Jordan promises, finishing up the last touches of the number '7’ before stepping back, admiring his work. “Alrighty then… let him go, guys. But do it slo-” Neither of them listen long enough to hear the warning.

As soon as Michael feels the slightest give to the pressure keeping him on the table, he lunges like a lion out of the dentist’s chair, ducking into a corner to examine the new markings on his left wrist. Now, his wrist reads ’Michael-57’, a permanent tattoo on the once pristine skin of his wrist. He whimpers as he traces his right thumb over the tattoo, wincing at the sharp pain. Immediately, Jordan walks over to Michael, applying a soft, cotton white bandage around his wrist, in order to keep the earlier opened wound from getting infected. He pats Michael on the head, letting out a pleased hum. He’s still a bit peeved about how much the kid screeched and struggled, but hey, he’s just a little kid. Such a reaction is expected, and just proves once again that Michael’s going to one day be a very great and capable fighter.

“Good work, kid.” Jordan praises aloud, ruffling Michael’s hair while it’s still goofy, long, and soft. “Took it like a real champ. You let Clawson and Troy here take you to the barber, okay? Try not to give her a hard time. I promise you, this is the worst of it.”

“’M 'kay.” Michael mutters, sounding defeated and worn out. The area around his eyes are red and puffy from his shed tears, with tears still occasionally falling down his cheeks. The tattoo still hurts like Hell, but at least he’s not dead like he thought he’d be by the end of it.

“Good. Go ahead now.” Jordan urges, pushing Michael in Clawson and Troy’s direction. Obediently, they stand on either side of the child as they take him from the room, leading him into the tiny barber’s room.

Inside is a woman, looking to be in her late to early sixties, with greying black hair and big, circle-framed glasses. “Hello there.” She greets, sounding nicer than Jordan, and MUCH nicer than the bath guy. “Come take a seat, deary. This will all be done in a few more minutes.”

Michael isn’t as frightened or shy as he obeys, getting into the chair- Michael figures that a haircut can’t be any worse than a tattoo- causing the middle-aged woman to give him a happy smile. She then sets to work shaving his head, while the ODSTs cross the room, taking a seat in two doctor’s office chairs. They pull off their helmets, allowing Michael to look them both over. The woman has short, pure white hair, and blood red eyes that almost seem to shine. The man has short, brown hair, with a blue ribbon hair-clip in it to keep his bangs out of his big, bright grey eyes. They both keep shooting Michael hesitant looks, but over time they seem to relax, realizing that Michael’s probably all out of energy by now. Michael appears so tired that he almost lulls off a few times, eyes drooping as his head is shaved.

“Ya know, he’s not so bad when he’s drowsy.” Clawson comments, allowing Michael to catch a glimpse of a noticeable chip in one of Clawson’s teeth. “See what I mean? Like a cat.”

"You’re a fucking idiot.” Troy points out, giving Clawson a toothy grin. She blushes bright red, however, as the barber shushes her. “What? I being too loud, Mrs. Kroger?”

“Yes, you are. And you hush with that fowl language in front of the children!” Mrs. Kroger scolds, making Clawson chuckle under his breath. “And you watch yourself too, Edward!”

Clawson rolls his eyes, it being Troy’s turn to laugh at his embarrassment. “Geez, Mrs. Kroger. My name ain’t Ed when I’m in uniform! Please, call me Clawson!”

Mrs. Kroger tisks at Clawson, careful as she shaves behind Michael’s ears. “Oh dear, you’ll always be Edward to me. Why, I’ve known you since you were in diapers!”

Troy only laughs harder, making Clawson blush bright red as he playfully punches her in the arm, ducking his head. “Please stop.” He mutters, looking oh so embarrassed. “Is this revenge for the purple cat incident when I was seven? I told you I was sorry!”

Mrs. Kroger’s light up at this mentioning, and Clawson’s eyes go huge, realizing what he’s just started. “Oh, I remember that! My, you were such a reckless child. I ask you to watch my house for ONE weekend, and what do I come home to-?”

Troy answers before Clawson can stop her. “-Your cat was running around the neighborhood neon purple and glowing!” She explains, ignoring the way Clawson glares furiously at her. “Hey, I’m just being a good friend and helping Mrs. Kroger remember, that’s all!”

“You two are awful.” Clawson announces, feeling like everyone should be aware of this. “I can’t believe I told you that story. Why did I even agree to be your partner when I signed up for this shit?”

“Because I’m the greatest?” Troy offers, but one look from Clawson tells her that that is definitely NOT the reason. “I dunno why then, Clawson. Maybe we just work well together?”

“You have a good partnership.” Mrs. Kroger explains. Once everyone starts looking at her- save Michael, whose damn near asleep- Mrs. Kroger chuckles at the looks on their faces. “I don’t see how you two can’t see it for yourselves. You two have been friends since Basic Training, yet you still insist that you hate each other. It’s adorable, really.”

“It’s not cute!” Troy insists, now her turn to glare at Mrs. Kroger. “I absolutely hate his as- butt! He’s the worst partner I’ve ever had in my life!”

Mrs. Kroger simply laughs again, making both ODSTs groan, glaring at each other before looking away to brood childishly. For awhile, the room is silent, until Mrs. Kroger suddenly speaks up, breaking the silence. “Alright, deary. You’re all done.” She promises, referring to Michael. “You can go back to your playing now!”

When Michael doesn’t move, everyone glances at him, Clawson and Troy bursting out laughing as they realize that Michael is out cold, snoring quietly. “I’ll take him back.” Clawson offers, standing up and stretching before scooping Michael up effortlessly, making for the door. “You coming, Troy?” He asks over his shoulder.

Troy rolls her eyes, but stands up as well, waving politely to Mrs. Kroger before following after her partner. “Right behind ya, Clawson!” She assures him, smiling as she pulls back on her helmet.

...

That night, after they’re given dinner (Re-heated military-grade rations. Gross.) the soon-to-be SPARTANS are sent to bed. Michael lingers in the doorway to the bedchamber room, trying to look for a means of entertainment. He’s not tired, not after that nap earlier, but the ODSTs and scientists are so they have to go to bed now. Well, that just won’t do in Michael’s mind. He stands in the doorway as the other kids- some just as upset about the early bedtime as Michael is- flood into the room. Only two ODSTs are leading them in, neither of which Michael recognizes as his initial kidnappers. He scans the crowd of kids carefully, before catching Veronica by the arm, pulling her out of the crowd and out of sight of the supervisors. Veronica gives Michael an odd look, but stays quiet once he puts his hand over her mouth, signaling for her cooperation.

As the ODSTs follow at the back of the crowd, neither notice that Michael and Veronica have gone missing, and shut the doors once everyone else is inside. Coming out from their hiding spot beside the door, which really wasn’t that much of a hiding spot, Michael lets out a sigh of relief. He’d been almost certain that they’d be caught, but apparently, those ODSTs aren’t nearly as efficient at their jobs as one might think. Still keeping quiet, Michael wordlessly leads his friend down the hallway, hiding behind any large machinery whenever doctors, scientists, or ODSTs walks by. As the lights of the entire building shut off, Michael and Veronica don’t bother with stealth, allowing themselves to walk freely down the hallways, as they seriously doubt anybody will notice their absence, much less look for them at THIS time of night.

“Why’re we up?” Veronica finally asks a few minutes after the building lights have shut off for the night. “Shouldn’t we go to bed like everybody else?”

“I’m bored.” Michael answers, holding Veronica’s hand as the two walk through the secretive military base. “Besides, I already had a nap earlier, and you slept in. Why should we go to bed if we’re not tired?”

“Guess you’re right.” Veronica mumbles back, though she does look a bit more tired than Michael does, but still has a lot of energy to spare. “What’re we gonna do then? I bet they put locks on the gym, so we can’t play in there.”

“Let’s go exploring!” Michael suggests, excitement in his voice. “This place is so big, I bet it has secret passageways and secret rooms! I mean, we’ve only seen an itty bit of it so far! Who knows what else is in here?”

"Where should we look first?” Veronica asks, running to where a directory is on one of the walls of the hallway. “Hm… LOOK!” She shouts, jumping up and down as she points at one of the colored areas on the map. “There’s a door that leads outside near here!”

“Hey, you hear that?” A voice from far away asks, causing both Michael and Veronica to go deathly quiet, realizing that they aren’t the only ones awake. “Think one of those kids got out? I heard from Terrance that a few of the bedchambers are empty for some reason, but I figured he just miscounted 'em.”

"He might not’ve… come on, I think that sound was coming from near the mess-hall.” Another voice replies to the first, running feet now beginning to echo in the empty base.

In a panic, both Michael and Veronica make a run for it, dashing down the hallway. They can hear footsteps behind them- far too close for comfort- but the idea of getting caught and punished only makes them go faster. Michael leads the way, holding tightly to Veronica’s hand as they round corners with no real direction, aiming to escape. They can’t afford to get caught- these people have already proven themselves willing to hurt them, if the tattoos are any indication- so, without thinking, they duck into an office, closing and locking the door behind them. Just outside the door, the footsteps come to a halt, whispered conversation sounding from the other side, before fists begin pounding on the office door in a fury.

“Hey! You kids get outta there!” The first voice from earlier orders, not sounding very happy. “Goddammit, Halsey’s gonna be pissed when she finds out we let 'em into her office! River, you go get Clawson and Hershey! I’ll watch the door in-case they come out.”

"We’re done for!” Michael whisper/yells, reaching up to pull on his hair, only to be reminded rather sadly that it’s already been shaved away. “What do we do!? Oh man, we’re in so much trouble! What should we do, Veronica?”

"How should I know!?” Veronica replies, also beginning to panic as it sets in that they’re indeed in very deep water. She pauses, looking around for a way out. There’s a big desk on the other end of the room, with a chair and window behind it. It sparks an idea. “Come on, Mikey! I think I know a way out after all!”

Hastily, Veronica and Michael run for the window, going as fast as possible in fear of the door soon being broken down. Lifting Veronica up on his shoulders, Michael helps Veronica reach the window. "I can’t get it open!” Veronica whimpers, looking close to crying out of fear.

Michael looks around this time, helping Veronica to sit on the windowsill before running to the chair. He hops up, opening the desk to search for a key or bobby-pin. Thankfully, he finds the card-key to the window, and jumps off the chair, handing it to Veronica. “Here! I hope this works…”

A loud thud outside makes both children jump, frightened by the sudden and loud noise. They’re either trying to break the door down, or someone much bigger than them is knocking on it. Either way, neither child wastes time as Veronica swipes the card-key over the scanner, unlocking the window. Veronica pokes her head out first, looking down. They’re on the second floor of what she can now tell is definitely a very, very big building. Thankfully, the air is breathable without a helmet and there’s a ledge that goes along the wall just below the window. Carefully, Veronica steps out of the window, bare feet landing without any real weight on the ledge, as she’s holding onto the windowsill for dear life. She soon gathers her courage though and sits on the ledge, promoting Michael to copy her until they’re both on the ledge.

They breathe heavily for a few minutes, deep fear implanted into them at the thought of slipping just a bit and falling to their deaths. Michael grabs Veronica’s hand in a tight, almost painful grip, assuring both her and himself that neither will fall tonight. As an afterthought, Veronica stands up on shaky legs, thankful for her small size, as it means she can stand on the ledge without too much fear of falling. She reaches up to the open window again, and closes it shut. She smirks, proud of her cunning idea. Hopefully, the guards and ODSTs won’t realize that they’ve snuck out the window until they’ve gotten away from the compound. At this thought, Veronica starts to think, taking a seat beside Michael once more, who again grabs ahold of her hand for reassurance. She glances at him, confusion written on her face.

"So… what do we do now? I… I don’t think this is home, Mike. We’re not on Shipwreck anymore.” Veronica points out, staring out at the horizon, as if transfixed by the environment around the compound.

Outside, the area has a strange, African feel to it. There aren’t lions or giraffes around, but there’re big, ostrich-like birds running around here and there, pecking at the ground and drinking not too far off from a watering hole. The grass is a deeper green than what could be considered normal for Earth, much less Shipwreck, but that might just be because Earth and Shipwreck are both very polluted and there’s not much green grass left on either one. The sight is cinematic for both children, and even the usually far too enthusiastic and adventurous Michael appears calmed by the atmosphere of the outside world, internally grateful for the change of scenery, because even before he was kidnapped and forced into the compound, he usually only saw a lot of grey in his life. This is nice.

“I dunno… maybe we should get down first.” Michael answers after a few more minutes pass by, the two drowning out the frantic noise from inside the compound. The guards have almost got the door open, by the sounds of it. “We’re really, really, really high up.”

"You said it. Come on, let’s look for a ladder or something.” Veronica urges, standing up on more sturdy legs this time. She’s overcome this fear now- though death is still terrifying to her- but she has stood before on the ledge and isn’t afraid anymore. “I think we might be able to get down if we scale the wall, I dunno, but we need to be careful if we do.

Michael hasn’t stood up before on the ledge, so he’s shaky as he stands, longing desperately to once again hold Veronica’s hand, but the last thing he wants is for his best friend to call him a baby, so he bites his tongue and keeps his hand a fist as they shimmy along the ledge. "I don’t think we should do any scaling, Veronica. Just saying. We could die really easily.” He points out, not yet filled with the bravery the environment and heights have gifted Veronica with.

"I know that, dummy.” Veronica promises, but isn’t nearly as careful as Michael is. However, they soon come to a ladder along the wall, and Veronica grins victoriously as she looks up upon balancing herself on the metal ladder. “Hey… how about we go up instead of down?” She suggests, a courageous light in her eyes.

But Michael, who is shaping out his own reasoning skills through this adventure, can tell that Veronica’s courage is also foolishness. “Naw, let’s go down. I don’t wanna be up here anymore.” He openly conveys a bit of his fear into the sentence, hoping that Veronica with sympathize with him and allow him some kind of freedom from this terrifying adventure.

Veronica considers Michael, considers how his eyes are watery at the edges, considers how the scar below his chin pulls as he grimaces at the ground below. She makes a decision, smiling warmly up at Michael as she decides to save her courage for another day. “Alright, Mikey. Come on down then, and be careful, this thing is slippery.”

The warning is actually pretty important, and Michael tries to be careful, but just as Veronica gets her feet on the grassy ground first- her having been ahead of him- he accidentally slips. He falls as a blur in Veronica’s eyes, and lands on his right side on the ground, facing away from Veronica. He yelps on impact, letting out a groan of pain as he lies there for a moment. Veronica rushes to his side, fear chilling her bones to a sudden numbness, but she powers through and crouches down beside him, shaking his upright side furiously. Before she can even speak or cry out for him to get up, Michael is already sitting up, looking around in a daze. His vision is a bit blurry, but otherwise he seems fine. He didn’t fall from that high up after all, only about two or three feet high, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of him afterwards.

”Ow.“ Michael mutters, but gives Veronica a big, toothy smile. There’s blood in his mouth, which he notices with a wisp of his own tongue over his teeth. He pauses, tongue pressed into a new, once tooth-owned hole in the bottom row of his remaining teeth. "Aw, nuts. I must’ve lost a tooth when I fell. Help me look for it!” He asks more than orders, getting on his hands and knees to seek out the lost tooth.

“You scared me!” Veronica scolds, but rolls her eyes and smiles nonetheless, helping Michael to search the grassy ground for his missing tooth. “Be more careful next time, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt, or get us in trouble!”

“Sorry.” Michael mumbles apologetically, before his face brightens up, as he jumps to his feet, left hand enclosed in a fist. “Found it!” He cheers proudly, holding out his hand so Veronica can see the small, bloody tooth, now slightly pink with blood. “Neat, huh?”

“Ew, that’s gross!” Veronica cries, hopping away, but she’s smiling, amused by the look on Michael’s face. There’s a thin line of blood coming from his mouth that keeps dripping onto his nightshirt, yet he seems happier than ever. “You’re such a dummy, Mikey!”

“No, you’re a dummy!” Michael teases back, shoving Veronica playfully.

Michael starts running around afterwards, letting out all the energy in his system as he explores the area. He doesn’t go far though, waiting occasionally in the same spots so that Veronica can keep up, or so that he can focus his attention on a particular thing. It’s not long, however, before their playtime is ruined. All at once, terminating the sweet silence of the nighttime, sirens at a horrendous volume begin blaring from the compound, causing both Michael and Veronica to jump with fright. On instinct, they run like wild dogs from the base, but suddenly freeze in their steps. Before them is a large, intimidating black cement lot, with hundreds upon hundreds of Pelicans, helicopters, parked Warthogs, tanks, and all sorts of really big, really strong looking vehicles, all just waiting to be used for war.

“This way!” Veronica suddenly orders, grabbing ahold of Michael’s arm before running full speed into the lot, knocked out of her stupor early by the incoming footsteps of guards and space marines. “I think I know a place to hide, come on, we’ll hide in here!” She starts climbing into the back of an open Pelican, yanking violently on Michael’s arm until he tumbles in with her.

“We’re gonna get in really big trouble, huh?” Michael whispers after a few seconds, barely heard by Veronica over the commotion outside in the lot. “I mean, sneaking outta bed was bad enough… thanks for coming with me, though. It was a lot of fun while it lasted.” Michael’s smile to her is fearful, but it’s sincere as well.

Veronica smiles back at Michael, though it’s with more courage than her friend. “Well, maybe if we’re lucky, we won’t get caught at all.” She whispers back, looking at least a bit hopeful, but they both know that such a wish is unlikely to come true.

Michael shrugs at her, grinning now. “Have to try, right?” He’s trying be positive, which he’s pretty good at, meaning it rubs off on Veronica. They both laugh at their own stupidity for being so hopeful, but it certainly lightens the mood. At least for a bit.

“There you all are!” A guard yells angrily as he charges into the back of the Pelican, stopping to glare down at the two children. “What the… where are the other kids?” He asks, looking confused, the anger fading just enough to show an honest to God worried man underneath.

“W-What other kids?” Michael asks in return, voice wavering on pitiful as he feels tears of fear trail down his face. He was pretty hopeful before, but now he feels ready to die, a terrible ache in his stomach at the thought of getting punished by the guards for their insubordination.

“Didn’t you… shit!” The guard pulls out a walky-talky, voice sounding a bit panicked, but not in the same way Michael’s is. “Come in, Sargent. This is Hershey. I’m here with-” He suddenly crouches down, looking over both children’s tattooed wrists before standing up again. “-I’m here with Veronica-56 and Michael-57. They look as if they escaped on their own, neither appear to know the locations of Russell-18, Jeremy-19, and Matt-23.”

The voice on the other end of the walky-talky is unable to be heard by Michael and Veronica, but nonetheless, they exchange a worried look, both shuffling uncomfortably on the floor of the Pelican. This can’t be good…

...

Part 4 Complete

A/N: Ooooh… shit’s going down for Michael now. We’ll just have to wait and see how this whole mess’ll be resolved now! And yes, I know what's going to happen next chapter. And yes, I'm very, very sorry about it.

NEXT PART DESCRIPTION: Part 5: Manhunt. While Michael and Veronica have been apprehended by the guards, it seems three other soon-to-be SPARTANS have taken off in the night! Will the three boys be apprehended with compassion and understanding like Michael and Veronica, or will this be the first of many terrible trials for Michael and his teammates to overcome?

~Supercasey.


	5. Manhunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Michael and Veronica have been apprehended by the guards, it seems three other soon-to-be SPARTANS have taken off in the night! Will the three boys be apprehended with compassion like Michael and Veronica, or will this be the first of many terrible trials for Michael and his teammates to overcome?

Caboose the SPARTAN

A/N: Sorry this took so damn long! I’ve had a lot going on, but I’ve finally got the next chapter done! I’m just glad I didn’t have to bury this fic. Please R&R! [WARNING: UNEDITED (I'll edit it later on)]

...

Hershey drags Veronica-56 and Michael-57 into the bedchamber room without a word, his silence frightening the two children enough to join him in it. He opens their bedchambers without any warnings, lying them each down in their respective pods before locking them closed. Michael stares at the ceiling for a long time, too afraid to speak. Everyone else is asleep, save for Veronica, who is watching the ceiling as well, yet the young boy still struggles to join his new comrades in some sort of dreamland. Cursed by the looks of it with temporary insomnia, Michael rolls over a few times, trying to find comfort on the still unfamiliar bedding. He feels conflicted, like there’s so much more to come tomorrow and he needs to rest, yet it’s that excitement for tomorrow that keeps him from slumber.

Not to mention how he’s still in trouble, Michael remembers, feeling a shiver run up his spine at the thought. He ran off without a word, not only that, but he dragged Veronica into the mess with him. Michael sighs in the silence of the room to himself, feeling guilt consume his mind and solidify into a block of granite in his stomach, heavy and painful. There’s no telling what might happen now, but still, Michael can’t help but try and figure out a way out of this whole mess. Well… the ODSTs and supervisors never directly SAID he and Veronica weren’t allowed to stay up. Sure, they hadn’t gone into the bedchambers with everyone else, but it’s not like they were told they couldn’t. A bit of hope fills Michael at the idea, and he smiles, arms behind his head as he tries desperately to settle his mind.

It isn’t much longer before he’s finally asleep for the night.

The next morning, Michael is awoken suddenly and painfully, as two strong arms pick him up from under his armpits, carrying him without any explanation out of the room. The two strong arms, Michael realizes after a few moments, belong to the same guard from last night: Hershey. Behind Hershey, Michael can see from over the guard’s shoulder, is another guard, whose carrying Veronica in the same fashion as Hershey is carrying Michael. With no time to contemplate what’s going on, Michael and Veronica are both taken into a room not too far down the hall from the bedchamber room. Hershey and the other guard carry them into the room, closing and locking the door behind them. The room is almost pitch black, with only one, tiny fluorescent light-bulb hung from the ceiling.

There’s a brown, dinner table type desk in the middle of the room, with two lone chairs by the entrance to the room. On the other side of the table is a person in ODST type armor, yet they don’t have the white with purple accents like most everyone else, having blue accents instead. Silent as the dead, Hershey and the other guard plop Michael and Veronica into the two unoccupied chairs, leaving the room immediately afterwards, leaving Michael and Veronica alone to face the strange ODST-armored person before them. The person is silent as they study the two soon-to-be SPARTANS, trying to figure them out, before they stop, standing up abruptly. Both Michael and Veronica flinch violently, causing the person to pause, hands on the table, before they sit back down, as if satisfied.

“You’ve both been abused before… that’s good. I understand you two caused quite a bit of trouble last night, correct?” The person asks, earning two identical nods from Michael-57 and Veronica-56. “Well, I’ll be straight with you both. You’re both in some really hot fucking water right now, but there’s a way you two can change that.” He stands up, less suddenly, beginning to circle them like a shark around swimmers. “You see, you two aren’t the only ones who were out last night. We still have three boys missing: Russell-18, Jeremy-19, and Matt-23. Here’s where you two get to make a choice. One, you can both refuse my offer and be killed for treason against the UNSC… or you track down those other kids, and either A, kill them, or B, capture them. It’s your choice.”

Michael and Veronica exchange a look, both beginning to shake with terror. This is real, as hard as it is for them to believe. This is real life, and they know this is a big, big decision. “What… what do we do?” Veronica asks Michael, eyes big and terrified.

Michael swallows, looking away from her to think. The person in front of them is sitting on the desk now, arms crossed as they stare at the two child, head tilted in thought. “I…” He looks to the person for guidance, but finds no answers or kind gestures. “C-Can we do the second option, please?” He asks, voice shaking.

The interrogator seems pleased with this, a chuckle leaving their mouth as they nod, going back to sit calmly in their chair as the guards come to retrieve Michael and Veronica. “Good choice, kid. You’ll both be sent out after you have breakfast, and be armed with weapons and the proto-type SPARTAN armor Halsey is working on.” Then the interrogator waves as the children are taken, as if nothing at all is wrong with this situation.

...

As soon as they're placed in the large mess hall by the guards, Michael-57 and Veronica-56 are swarmed by the other children, all asking questions and yelling excitedly in a rush. Both soon-to-be SPARTANS hurry away from the others, running to their seats to be served breakfast. The other kids fight to sit beside them, eager to hear all about last night’s adventures. Michael tries to ignore all of the attention, but Veronica seems to love it, grinning as she nods and waves at the other kids, excited to be treated like some big, amazing superhero whose done the impossible. One girl, who has Judy-41 on her left wrist, sits right beside Veronica, eyes gleaming as she smiles at the slightly taller six year old.

“Um… are you Veronica-56?” Judy-41 inquires, gaining Veronica’s direct attention. “Can you tell us about your and Michael-57’s big adventure last night?”

“Sure!” Veronica chirps, sounding oh-so boastful as she elbows Michael excitedly, trying to get him to revel in the glory as well. “Well, it all started when Michael decided to try and play some more, since he wasn’t tired. I was lucky enough to be grabbed by him in the crowd of hundreds of other kids to join him on his adventure!” She’s over-exaggerating a bit, but no one seems to notice or mind. “We hid around corners, hid in the shadows, and were faster than thunderbolts! We even outran twenty-something guards! We were afraid, but me and Mike had a plan! We escaped into an office, and climbed out a window! Gosh, we must’ve been a thousand miles off the ground! It was so easy to fall, but we were like ninjas!”

The other children’s eyes are big and bright with wonder, all bouncing in their seats as they listen on to Veronica’s tale. “The ledge was super narrow, I bet even humming couldn’t have landed on it! But me and Mike were super cool, we walked on the ledge and slid down a ladder to the ground. But outta nowhere, Mike fell from what was probably ten miles up and lost a tooth! He’s okay now, but man, it looked like it HURT! Also, big, scary, dinosaur sized birds were EVERYWHERE once were on the ground. It was incredible! But we were stronger AND faster than them, so they were too afraid to come near us. Just as we were REALLY starting to explore the outside… they came.”

The others gasp in awe, terrified of what has happened thus far to Michael and Veronica. “They came in thousands, all running at us with guns and tanks and spaceships! We ran for cover, running across miles and miles of black war-ground! They were upon us, and with no other choices, we hid in a half-blown up spaceship! We waited, alone, but we didn’t dare cry. We were too strong and mighty for such a thing! We waited until they found us, and fought to tooth and nail until they dragged away, screaming and clawing. I think I took one guard’s eyes out even!” By the end of her tale, the other children are absolutely crazy as they cheer and celebrate. Veronica stands in her seat, poised like superhero.

Michael feels the need to add in that, no, that’s not exactly how it went down. But he doesn’t say anything. If Veronica wants this adventure’s story to be that crazy and awesome, he’s not about to make her look stupid in front of the others and call her out on it. If anything, Michael figures that it’s a good thing she’s making it sound so frightening. After last night, he sure as heck doesn’t want any other kids going out there on their own, and he hopes Veronica’s tale is scary enough to keep them from going out there. However, as the cheering gets louder, Michael begins to realize what exactly Veronica has just done. The guards don’t step in as the children abandon their breakfasts, too excited to wait for adventure.

“I wanna go! I wanna go!” A boy cheers, jumping up and down along with a few other little boys. “I bet we can get even farther! No big bird’s gonna scare us!”

“Wait-” Michael goes to override the boastful boy, whose he’s certain is in way over his head without even realizing it. “You can’t, it’s too-” He’s overridden quickly.

“No way! I can go WAY farther than you ever could, Tony!” A girl proclaims, holding hands with a girl who looks very similar to her. They look like twins. “Me and Amelia are the toughest kids here!”

“Oh yeah?” The now addressed Tony challenges, sounding headstrong and confident before the twin sisters. “I bet you can’t even catch those runaways!”

“You’re gonna bet?” Amelia, the other twin, replies mockingly, looking just as determined and brave as her sister to venture into danger. “You’re gonna lose if ya do!”

“I triple-dog dare you both!” Tony screams over the roar of the crowd, and all at once, they go silent. Among any group of children, a triple-dog dare is something no man or child can turn down, no matter how crazy or dangerous. “I triple-dog dare you two to catch those kids first! If you win, you guys’ll be the best around! In fact, whoever catches them first is the best SPARTAN in the whole universe!”

And, again, the room fills with excited cheering and screaming. “WAIT!” However, they go dead quiet as Michael speaks- he is the other adventurer after all- all eyes turning to give him their full attention. “You can’t go out there! It’s too dangerous!” He warns, looking fearful. “You have no idea what you’re doing!”

Tony and the other kids stare, all amazed by the adventurer’s admission. How could such a brave survivor be afraid? Finally, Veronica swallows, feeling ashamed for having caused such a terrible reaction from the others. “Mike’s right.” She agrees, and this time they all gasp, because Veronica was the one who sounded so brave to begin with. “It’s dangerous out there.”

And just like that, the children all seem to stop at once. They exchange looks, whispers quiet and barely heard above the trembling silence. After a few moments, they all nod one by one to each other, quietly returning to their breakfasts. The meals are cold by now, but no one comments. Maybe they’re just as scared as Michael and Veronica? If they are, they don’t say it. Michael and Veronica exchange a long, terrified look. Whatever is happening to them all… it’s spreading fast, and it’s not nearly as controllable as they want it to be. Also, whatever this is, the staff seem to want it to happen, if their silence and neutrality towards the almost-riot from before is anything to go by.

Michael swallows roughly as he and Veronica go back to eating their meals, eyes glued to his tray to avoid looking at the other kids or the staff members. Fear feels like weights trapped in his bones, now hollow, but he doesn’t say a word. He just keeps eating.

...

“So that was… scary.” Veronica later comments, walking side by side with Michael, with two guards behind them and two in front of them. She doesn’t hold his hand, thinking it too childish to do in public.

“Yeah.” Michael agrees quietly, fingers flexing as he considers grabbing Veronica’s hand. The feeling would be comforting, but he figures she doesn’t want that right now. “I think what you said was… scary.”

“It was powerful.” Veronica corrects, and Michael hums to that. Not to disagree, but to agree without voicing it aloud. “I think those other kids… they look up to us now. They think we’re strong now ‘cus we did the impossible.”

“It wasn’t impossible. It was just hard.” Michael reminds his friend. He doesn’t want to revel in any sort of glory, if anything, he wishes he’d never gone out at all. Veronica’s acting so weird now because of it. “So… what ya think we’re gonna do when we find those runaways?”

Veronica shrugs, before a cold glint enters her big, green eyes. “Whatever we gotta do. Remember, we have to find them. Otherwise, we’re gonna die.”

Michael nods, accepting her words, though his face scrunches, concern evident in his features. “Do you… do think, if there’s no other way, that you’d ki-” He’s cut off as he’s grabbed abruptly by the wrist by a guard behind him, shushing him as he and Veronica are ushered into a big room.

Silence follows as the guards cover Michael-57 and Veronica-56’s mouths, keeping them both quiet while they lead them into a hanger-type room. The room is absolutely massive- much bigger than the gym or any school they’ve seen in their lives- with Pelicans, Hornets, tanks, and other big, heavy-weapon vehicles surrounding the walls. All around, groups of soldiers and staff members push and pull crates into empty or near-empty Pelicans, loading them up for sending out supplies to other bases. A few groups of soldiers are training, either running laps inside the room or doing exercises, but what really catches the children’s attention is a tall, broad-shouldered man, decked out in full body armor, save for his head. He stands patiently waiting for them head tilt as he examines the twosome.

“Hm.” He hums, taking in both children’s features, analyzing them internally like a computer analyzing coding or files. “Not bad. The boys pretty damn scarred up, but that just means he’s seen more combat. The girl looks pretty sharp, too. They’ll do fine, I think.”

Michael and Veronica exchange a look. What could this guy be talking about? The man suddenly continues, running into his explanation. “So, you two are the little runaways that damn-near outran all of our guards, hm? My name is Browning, and I’m this compound’s lead trainer for you soon-to-be SPARTANS. You might be pretty young still, but I think you can handle this mission. You should already know that you’re tracking down those three boys, right?” They nod, both in perfect unison. “Good. I’m here to get you two prepped before we send ya out.”

And so, without further distractions, Browning strides over to the two children, grabbing Veronica first, as to go by number order. He tries to lead her away, but she panics, kicking and punching to try and get away. “Oh, you’re a fighter, huh? Let’s hope your friend there is as tough as you are.” Browning comments, almost amused by the girl’s disobedience.

Browning, being much stronger and bigger than both children, is easily able to keep his hold on Veronica as he leads her towards a few large crates. He picks her up, handing her to a guard, and searches through the first crate’s contents until he finds a small suit of space marine-type armor. Browning, after locating the armor, takes Veronica back, forcing her rather roughly into the new clothing. Once she’s been secured in the armor, he grabs Michael, who, unlik Veronica, doesn’t fight back, even cooperating as he lets the commander stuff him into his new armor. Once they’re both fully armored, they’re both allowed onto the ground, allowing them to look each other over. They’re both now wearing dark green armor, but to their surprise, the helmet, arms, and legs of the armor suits have dark blue accents on them.

“Those accents mean you two are squad leaders.” Browning explains, giving the two children proud once-overs. “After your little performance last night, Halsey thought it best to make you two temporary leaders until you’ve all trained yourselves up more in the field. In a few minutes, you two’ll be sent out to track down those runaways. The other kids’ll be out too, but you two’ll be the only ones with guns.” As if reminded of this, he reaches back into one of the crates, digging out two pistols and two satchels filled with ammo cartridges. “Now I’m gonna tell ya both this before you’re sent out: if you have a clear shot and they’re not surrendering, you take that shot. You got that?” They nod, causing the commander to smirk. “Good kids. Now get going!”

Browning gives them both an encouraging push towards a few of the guards, who lead the two children down another hallway, towards the front doors of the compound. “So, what was it you were saying earlier, Mike?” Veronica asks, the pistol in her hands held as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

For Michael, holding the pistol feels… wrong. Like it’s not right. He decides to forget about it, returning his attention to Veronica. “It’s nothing, Veronica. Don’t worry 'bout it.” It’s something he’s going to be worrying about, no doubt about it, but he’s not about to worry Veronica with his useless worries. “Let’s do what they say, okay?”

For a few moments, Veronica is silent, before she nods, if a bit hesitantly. “… If you say so, Mike. Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

And Michael nods, promising in silence that he won’t. He probably will, but it’s not like she needs to know that. No one needs to know that.

...

It’s long since begun to rain once the children as escorted outside. Already, Michael and Veronica can see the other children running around outside, trying to hide that they’re playing while looking for the missing children. “Gather up!” ODST Troy orders, voice barely heard over the pounding rain from overhead. “We want all of you over here!”

Soon enough, all the children gather around Troy, Clawson, Veronica-56, and Michael-57. Now that everyone is there, Clawson clears his throat, earning their attention. “As of now, Veronica-56 and Michael-57 will be your squad leaders. They will be the only ones armed with weapons, so don’t take their guns. 56 and 57 will lead a team of eighteen other SPARTANS into the jungles nearby, while the rest of you may form groups of your own among you. Stick together, and avoid using lethal force when capturing the boys. They may be hostile, so approach with caution.” He explains, before nodding at Michael and Veronica. “Choose whoever you like.”

One at a time, Michael and Veronica start picking kids playground-style, choosing one after the other. Surprisingly, they both pick only girls, until they’re surrounded by eighteen little girls, all looking excited. Clawson and Troy don’t comment, and after re-explaining the situation and instructions, they go back inside of the facility. This is the SPARTANS’ mission, not theirs. Michael then goes through the group, doing role-call. There’s Minnie-51, Amelia-52, Stacy-43, Gina-38, Judy-41, Alexandra-20, Kara-14, Lisa-9, Sara-10, Yuki-74, Destiny-92, Emma-105, Zoey-65, Charlotte-49, Nora-62, Grace-23, Savannah-112, and finally Eva-72. That’s a LOT of little girls. They all chatter excitedly as Michael finishes up, confirming that everyone is there to Veronica, who clears her throat like Clawson to earn their attention.

“Listen up,” Veronica begins, examining the girls closely. “We’re gonna go in there and catch those runaways, okay? I’m in-charge, so you all gotta listen to me. Got it?” They all nod, which makes Veronica grin triumphantly. “Good. Follow me.”

Michael doesn’t comment on Veronica’s speech as he follows her in. Unfortunately for him, all of the younger girls immediately take his place on either side of Veronica, asking excitedly to hear more and more about last night’s adventures. She treats them to an even more daring and terrifying recollection of it, and as expected, they all compliment and worship her as they follow her through the dense jungle. As a result of the other girls surrounding Veronica, Michael falls back, feeling defeated and like a stranger as he follows behind the group. He probably shoved picked some boys to join in, but all of the girls had seemed so nice and happy… he’d figured they’d be better company than the boys.

Luckily for him, two girls start drawing back, beginning to walk on either side of them. Michael recognizes them quickly as the twins from breakfast, the ones who’d challenged Tony’s bravery beforehand. Part of Michael suspects that Veronica chose them specifically for that. “Hey,” Minnie, the first twin greets, a big smile on her face. “You’re Michael, right? The one who went adventuring with Veronica?”

Michael nods, if only to satisfy the younger girl. “That’s really cool!” Amelia announces, just as excited as her twin sister. “Was it scary, running from all those guards? You must not be scared of anything if you did all that in one night!”

Michael shrugs, not nearly as convinced. “I was pretty scared. We could’ve been killed if we weren’t more careful… I have a bad feeling about all this. I think something bad’s gonna happen on this mission.”

Minnie and Amelia exchange a look, before they give Michael a shared, serious look. The two are impressively intimidating together. “You feel it, too?” Amelia whispers, and when Michael nods, her face looks grim. “Our Mom always says that when we feel like something bads gonna happen that we should run… what should we do?” She sniffles, a low whine leaving her throat. “I want Mom…”

Minnie grabs Amelia’s hand from behind Michael, making the boy feel out of place. “Don’t cry, Amelia. We’re helping protect Mom now, remember? It’ll be okay. We’ll see her again someday.” She promises, voice low. She’s almost believable. “We’ll just have to follow orders, even if this feels bad.”

“I’ll protect you guys.” Michael assures the twin girls. They look a little older than him, but not by much at all. “Don’t worry, okay? We’ll do this together.”

Before Michael can further assure the girls that they’ll be alright, a twig nearby breaks. The entire team of girls along with Michael go dead quiet, waiting in silence for what might happen next. “I’ll go.” Michael whispers to Veronica, whose still at the head of the group. “You keep going with the others, okay? I think it’s only one of 'em.”

Veronica nods silently to Michael, confirming that she’s heard him. With his orders to be followed, Michael then holds the pistol tighter as he creeps deeper into a brush to the left of the jungle path, towards where the twig broke. Behind him, he hears the girls quickly shuffle away, allowing Michael to breathe more easily. With no one making noise behind him anymore, Michael continues into the thick brush, pushing past bushes of strange coloring until he hears another twig snap. Careful not to make a sound, Michael tiptoes towards the source of the sound. Resting against a tree trunk is an incredibly tall, strong-looking boy, with deep grey eyes and a scar running over his cheek. His left wrist is turned in a way that Michael can read the name: the boy’s name is Matt-23. He’s one of the missing boys.

“Hands up.” Michael orders loudly, appearing in front of the boy with his pistol raised threateningly. He feels like a cowboy in an action movie, but he can’t tell if he’s the hero or the villain.

Matt-23 doesn’t even look at Michael, and that’s when he sees the cut. Matt has a long, bloody cut running over his left side, being pressed down on by Matt’s right hand. His breathing is labored, meaning he’s been bleeding for awhile, and he looks like he’s about to faint. “Hey… are you okay… can you talk?” Michael asks, going quiet, in-case Matt has a headache.

“I can talk.” Matt grunts out, his voice oddly gruff and harsh. “Jus’ hurts. I fell.” He explains, hissing as tears slip down his cheeks. “… I think I’m gonna die.”

“No you won’t.” Michael assures the older boy, swallowing roughly. “Here, let me-” He steps forward, ready to examine the wound in-spite of his lack of medical experience.

Out of nowhere, Matt jumps him. Michael falls easily, Matt being much bigger than him, and allows the bigger child to pin him to the ground, left hand on Michael’s chest, Matt’s other one holding Michael’s pistol to the younger boy’s head. Michael squirms, trying to get away, but Matt is strong and he’s not about to let him win in a fight. “Stay down.” Matt suggests, voice low and threatening. “I don’t wanna kill you.”

Yeah right. Before Michael and vocally inform Matt that, no, he probably DOES want to kill him, a loud, deafening gunshot fills the air. Afterwards, silence fills the air. Michael opens his eyes and looks down. Matt hasn’t fired the pistol. So that means… *BANG*! This time, Matt jumps off of Michael, spooked even worse by the second shot. Michael stares at Matt, then at the pistol. Again, it wasn’t Matt. It had to have come from Veronica’s pistol. With the energy of a man whose life could end at any moment, Michael leaps forward, knocking the pistol out of Matt’s hands. He’s careful to not land on his cut, refusing to make the wound worse, and pins the other boy easily. Matt simply stares up at Michael, his expression blank, and Michael has to wonder how many times Matt’s been hurt by someone else.

With no other signs of another gunshot going off, Michael hoists the pistol in it’s pouch after un-pinning Matt, and once his pistol is secure, he let’s Matt lean on him for support. Together, the two boys begin trudging back towards the compound, Michael careful not to drop Matt as they hurry along. “Thank you.” Matt suddenly says, making Michael nearly jump in surprise. “You saved me… thanks.”

For a moment, Michael just keeps walking, before he smiles, shooting Matt a lopsided yet well-fitted grin. “Anytime, buddy.” He assures, continuing on the path ahead.

...

When Michael meets back up with Veronica, her pistol is missing two bullets and all of the other girls looking absolutely shell-shocked. Michael stares at her, eyes wide, as she turns up her hands to him, showing the blood that covers her dark palms. “They fought back… then they went over the cliff.” She explains, not mentioning the gunshots at all. “There was nothing I could do, Mike. They jumped.”

Michael considers, for a moment, asking if this is true, but one of the girls- Alexandra- begins to sob openly and loudly. Some of the others follow her lead. Faced with triggering the younger girls on the team, Michael chooses not to ask. Instead, he and Veronica take Matt and help him back towards the compound. The girls cry the whole way home.

Soon enough, Michael will learn the truth. For now, though, he will be joyfully kept from the dark truth of what happened to Russel-18 and Jeremy-19.

...

Part 5 Complete

A/N: Not as dark as I had wanted it to be, but this is what I’ve got. Again, sorry for how late it is, but I didn’t wanna make myself write it if I wasn’t in the mood. Otherwise it would’ve been crap. I hope this satisfies though! Please R&R, I wanna know if anyone still likes this fic or not!

NEXT PART DESCRIPTION: Part 6: Captains. Four months have passed, and as Michael and Veronica continue to argue over their very different views, Dr. Halsey announces that captains will soon be picked for different groups of SPARTANS. Will Michael be chosen to be a leader once more after his successful capture of Matt-23? Will Veronica’s charisma and bravery earn her a squad of loyal SPARTANS?

~Supercasey.


End file.
